


why can't you see? (you belong with me)

by driftingskies237



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, Idiots in Love, Jealous Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Jealousy, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), Pining, Scruffy Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23779786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driftingskies237/pseuds/driftingskies237
Summary: In an attempt to woo Merlin, Arthur grows his hair out. It has absolutely nothing to do with Gwaine.
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 816
Collections: Scruffy Pendragon Fest





	why can't you see? (you belong with me)

Normally, Arthur wouldn’t go to Gwaine for advice. Any advice about the state of the kingdom, and Arthur would go to his advisors. For advice about battle strategies, he would go to Leon or Percival. Normally, for advice about the heart, Arthur would go to Merlin. In this case, however, Arthur can’t go to Merlin since the very advice he needs is about Merlin.

Arthur wants to woo Merlin.

He’s tried himself, of course, but all of his attempts failed. Despite the rare moments in which Merlin can be perceptive, most of the time he’s an oblivious idiot. Arthur had hoped that the numerous hints he dropped would be enough for Merlin to understand Arthur’s growing feelings, but when that didn’t work, Arthur took more drastic measures.

First, he planned a picnic, just the two of them. However, somehow Merlin interpreted _a picnic for just the two of them_ as an invitation to invite whoever he wanted along. That’s how the romantic picnic he had planned for Merlin turned into a knight’s gathering, with Arthur scowling the whole time.

Next, Arthur tried flowers. This was Gwen’s advice a while back for how to impress a lady, so Arthur figured it would work just the same with Merlin. He went out to collect flowers one day in the forest, arranged them in a vase, and left them on the main table in Gaius’s and Merlin’s room. The next day, Arthur listens as Merlin blabs about how kind it was of Arthur to send Gaius flowers. Arthur has to physically restrain himself from banging his own head against the hard wood of his desk.

After that incident, Arthur figures he needs to be even more direct. He’ll get Merlin a present, one of those stupid neckerchiefs he’s so fond of for some reason. Arthur has it handmade by a local seamstress in a deep purple color of the softest fabric. When it’s ready, Arthur shoves it directly into Merlin’s hands, attempting to hide his blush.

“What is this?” Merlin asked, staring at the fabric.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “It’s a new neckerchief, Merlin. With how much you wear them, you think you could recognize one.”

Merlin beamed. “Oh, thank you, Arthur. My birthday isn’t for another few months, though.”

“It’s not—”

“A big deal, I know, but I still appreciate the friendly gesture.”

“Merlin—”

“I know, I know. I’m just a servant while you’re a King, so we can’t be friends. I’ve heard the spiel many times before, sire.”

In other words, all of Arthur’s attempts have been futile because Merlin is just a huge idiot. Still, for some reason, Arthur can’t get that stupid manservant out of his head no matter how hard he tries. It’s ridiculous, really, the amount of times that Arthur thinks of Merlin these days. He thinks of Merlin’s snorting laughter after they joke around together. The image of Merlin’s lips curling into a soft smile, reserved just for Arthur. The feeling that Arthur gets when Merlin says his name, not his title, but his real name. _Arthur._ The way it rolls off his tongue. How, before doing anything or making any decision by himself, Arthur wonders what Merlin would do.

Arthur needs advice.

He can’t go to Gwen, as that would be too awkward given their history. Elyan would be the same way, as he is Gwen’s brother. Leon, as far as Arthur knows, hasn’t had much experience with relationships himself, so he would probably be of no use. Percival, although he has a tender heart, is not especially close to Merlin, not like some of the other knights. And of course, Arthur can’t go to Gaius for obvious reasons. That leaves one person.

Gwaine.

Against his better judgement, Arthur decides Gwaine must be the person to give him advice. So, he arranges a meeting one night at the Rising Sun Tavern, making sure to stress that the meeting is of the upmost importance and secrecy, and not to invite anyone else or tell anyone else. Arthur makes sure to assign Merlin extra duties that night, just in case he tries to come along.

“So, what did you want to talk about, Princess?” Gwaine asks, taking another swig of mead. They sit in the darkest corner. It’s still relatively early, so the tavern has yet to be jam-packed full.

“It’s a rather…sensitive topic,” Arthur replies.

Gwaine sighs, “Ah, I see what’s happening here.”

“Y-you do?”

“It’s pretty obvious, mate. You got a girl knocked up—”

“Excuse me?!” Arthur gasps, affronted. “No, that’s not—why would you even say that?”

Gwaine grins sneakily, “To get a rise out of you, ‘course. I know this is about Merlin.”

“How?”

“Are you kidding? You make heart eyes at him _constantly_. It’s pathetic, really, kind of like a kicked puppy.”

Arthur glares at him. “Do remember that you’re talking to your King, _Sir Gwaine._ ”

Gwaine raises his hands in surrender. “Calm down, Princess. I’ll I’m saying is that the whole castle knows about your crush on Merlin, except Merlin himself.”

“That’s the problem,” Arthur mutters, slouching over the table. “He’s such an oblivious idiot.”

“He’s not the only one,” Gwaine coughs out, earning a weird look from Arthur.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, sire,” Gwaine says. “I assume that’s why you’re here, then? For my expertise.”

Arthur presses at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. Gwaine pats him on the back a few times before hailing over a server. “I’ll take your finest pint of mead. We’re going to need it. And charge it to Prince Arthur.”

Arthur doesn’t have the energy to argue with Gwaine. Besides, Arthur has to admit that alcohol sounds like something he could use as of now. The server brings back a pint of mead, as instructed, winking at Gwaine before he goes. Gwaine winks back with a sly smirk.

“Advice?” Arthur reminds him as Gwaine drools over the mead.

“Right, of course. Have you tried doing something to get his attention?”

“I’ve tried everything!”

“Have you tried seducing him? Merlin gets all flustered when someone compliments his—”

“Wait a minute,” Arthur backtracks, mind spinning. “Did you and Merlin…?”

“My, my, someone looks jealous.”

Although Arthur would never admit it, he does in fact feel a bit jealous. He knew that Gwaine liked to flirt with Merlin, but Gwaine does that with everyone. He also knew that Gwaine and Merlin were close, but he never thought it was anything more than friends. Arthur is steadily getting more and more frustrated. Meanwhile, Gwaine just raises his eyebrows.

“I have to go,” Arthur blurts out. “I need to think.” He chugs a mouthful of mead, slamming it back down on the table before making his way out of the tavern.

Gwaine?! How could Gwaine catch Merlin’s affections, but he couldn’t? What does Gwaine have that Arthur doesn’t have? Arthur is not overly conceited in his looks, but he knows that he is somewhat attractive. Gwaine, well, Gwaine isn’t all that ugly, either. He certainly isn’t groomed primly, though. If anything, Arthur would call him rugged. Is that what Merlin likes?

Arthur swipes a hand through his hair in frustration, but pauses halfway through as a thought lands upon him. Gwaine talks constantly about his own hair. In fact, now that Arthur thinks about it, he’s heard many of the knights talk about Gwaine’s hair. But he needs to do some more research. Luckily, he’s able to catch Gwen in the hallway.

“Gwen, may I ask you a question?” Arthur asks, peering out of his chambers. Gwen, carrying a basket of laundry, startles slightly, clothes jostling.

“Oh! Of course, sire,” Gwen replies.

Arthur hums, considering his words before asking, “Is Gwaine’s hair… _attractive?_ ”

Gwen cocks her head and sends Arthur a perplexed look. “Gwaine’s….hair?”

“Yes. His hair.”

“I mean, it certainly looks nice…gives him a scruffy sort of look. And…and it’s soft?”

“Hmm. Soft.”

Gwen’s face heats up. She clears her throat, hoisting the basket more firmly into her arms. “Yes, well, _um_ , I best be getting back to my duties. I, um, hope that was helpful?”

“Very much, Gwen. Thank you for your counsel.”

Gwen curtsies slightly before scurrying away. She throws another odd look over her shoulder before completely disappearing out of view. Caught up in thought, Arthur doesn’t notice Merlin coming around the opposite corner.

“Get lost on the way to your chambers, sire?” Merlin teases, jolting Arthur out of his considerations.

“And where have you been, then? Shirking your duties?”

“If you must know, I ran into Gwaine, and we had a nice chat.”

Arthur balks at this. “Wait, what did he say? What were you two talking about?”

Merlin laughs. “Nosy much? Why can you be nosy in my business, but not I in yours?”

“Because, _Mer_ lin, I’m the King, and you are my servant. I have to make sure there’s no funny business happening in my kingdom.”

“Okay, clotpole,” Merlin replies, nose wrinkled. “If you care so much, Gwaine was just telling me about this delicious mead he had at the tavern earlier today, tried to con me into coming with him later.”

“No!” Arthur gasps, mouth ahead of his mind. Now, Merlin definitely suspects something strange is going on. His hands land on his hips as he raises an eyebrow, a look that Arthur is certain he picked up from Gaius. Quickly, Arthur goes to explain himself. “You spend enough time at the tavern. Besides, I still have plenty of chores for you to do, as well as attending to me before bed.”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “Yes, your royal pratness.”

And that’s the end of that. For the next month, Arthur continues pining after Merlin in secret while also glaring daggers at Gwaine when he blatantly flirts with Merlin. As the month goes along, Arthur can tell his hair is getting longer and scragglier. It tickles his ears and the nape of his neck, causing annoying itching sensations that are hard to ignore. Oftentimes, he also finds himself having to swish his bangs out of his eyes when they hang down in front of him. His facial hair is also growing into a short stubble.

It’s strange to see himself like this, Arthur must admit. He hasn’t ever had his hair so long. As royalty, it was expected of him to keep his hair short, styled, and proper. Uther certainly held that standard for him even as a wee boy, and Arthur never strayed from it. Now, though, seeing himself with shaggy hair and slight facial hair, Arthur feels different from normal.

Around the time of Arthur’s hair having grown out longer, Merlin seems to be looking at him more. Arthur certainly enjoys it when, out of the corner of his eye, Merlin sneaks a glance at him. He’s been doing it more and more frequently, too, so when Merlin confronts him one day, Arthur’s heart beats out of his chest in anticipation.

“Arthur, I need to speak with you,” Merlin says, pausing in his sweeping of Arthur’s chambers. Arthur glances up from his stack of papers, blowing yet another strand of hair away from his face.

“Alright, I suppose I can spare a few minutes.”

He stands up, heading over to Merlin. They stand facing each other, and Arthur crosses his arms after itching at the side of his face again. As they stand there, everything around them still and quiet, Arthur admires Merlin. He’s eyes glow in the sunlight from the window, and his lips are red from biting at them. He wrings his hands together, feet shuffling.

“I just…” Merlin trails off, biting his lip once more. “I’m worried about you, Arthur.”

“You’re _worried_ about me?” Arthur wonders incredulously. “Why would you be worried about me?”

Merlin scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I’ve just noticed that you…” he hesitates, as if debating with himself.

“Yes? I’ve what?”

“You haven’t really been yourself recently. You’re just all,” Merlin gestures, making a noise in a back of his throat, “scruffy.”

Arthur’s heart leaps into his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t know what—Arthur, you’ve refused to let me shave your face for weeks, and your hairdresser hasn’t come by in a long time. Your hair has gotten scruffy. You’re growing facial hair. I just…are you okay? You’re not upset about something, are you?”

“No, I’m not upset!” Arthur growls. “Maybe…maybe I just like my hair like this!”

Merlin sends him a look. “No offense, Arthur, but you’re not Gwaine.”

“God, I _know_ I’m not Gwaine!” Arthur groans. “Trust me, I know I’m not Gwaine. _Stupid Gwaine and his dumb hai_ r.”

“What have you got against Gwaine and his hair?”

“Of course you’re defending him.”

Merlin gapes, “I’m not defending him! Even if I was, I would have no clue what I was defending him over because _**I don’t know what you’re talking about**_!”

“Yes you do,” Arthur retaliates, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “I know about you and Gwaine! Gwaine told me all about your relationship.”

“Our relationship?” Merlin questions with a chuckle. “Arthur, Gwaine and I are not in a relationship. We may have kissed a few times, but we’re better off as friends.”

“Oh. I thought, you two just seem very close.”

Merlin laughs again. “Of course we are, prat. We’re good friends.” Suddenly, Merlin’s eyes brighten, mouth agape as he stares at Arthur. “Wait a minute…is this why you’re growing out your hair? Are you jealous of Gwaine’s hair?”

Completely done with this conversation, Arthur decides to get it over with. He can’t handle this pining any longer, Merlin’s reaction be damned. “I’m not jealous of Gwaine’s hair, idiot, I’m jealous of Gwaine’s intentions toward you!”

“Y-You’re jealous, over me?!” Merlin squeaks, face red all the way up to the tips of his ears. “But why would you be jealous over me? I’m just a servant.”

“You’re more than that to me, you have been for a while. I-god, Merlin, I like you. I’ve been trying to court you over the last few months, but you never could get the hint! How do you interpret a picnic with just the two of us as a romp with the knights?”

“I-I thought it was just a friendly day out?”

“A friendly—Merlin, I packed candles!”

They suddenly both start giggling out of nowhere, Arthur bracing his hand on Merlin’s shoulder to hold himself upright. Merlin is wiping tears out of his eyes as they finally calm down from their laughing fit.

“Do you really like me?”

“How many times to I have to confess to you before you believe me, Merlin?”

“It just all seems too good to be true,” Merlin admits shyly. “I’ve had a crush on you forever. I never thought…”

“Wait, all this time, you’ve had a crush on me? Why didn’t you say something?!”

“Because, dollophead, you’re the king! I never thought you’d reciprocate my feelings.”

“Well, I do.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“Yes, quite.”

An awkward silence ensues.

“Oh my—kiss me already,” Arthur demands, pulling a startled Merlin flush into his chest.

“My, bossy today, aren’t we sire—” Merlin begins before being cut off by Arthur, who is unable to resist keeping his lips away from Merlin’s any longer.

Arthur melts into Merlin’s warmth. Their lips mesh together as if they were made for it. A hand cups Arthur’s face, fingers trailing up his jaw and toward his hair. Merlin suddenly smirks against Arthur lips and pulls away for a moment, both of them breathing a bit heavier.

“So, just to confirm, you were growing your hair out like this because you thought I was attracted to Gwaine?” Merlin teases, hand continuing to run through Arthur’s hair. “That’s why you’re so scruffy. You wanted to look like Gwaine to try and gain my attention.”

“No, that has nothing to do with it at all!” Arthur disagrees. “Maybe I just prefer Gwaine’s hair.”

Even Arthur can’t keep himself from laughing at his own statement. Merlin laughs, as well, forehead coming forward to lean against Arthur’s forehead.

“You know,” Merlin whispers, eyes catching on Arthur’s. “I kind of like it.”

“Yes, well, don’t get used to it,” Arthur says, coming up to scratch at his face again. “It’s much too itchy and annoying. I’ve hardly been able to get any work done the last week! Now that I know you reciprocate my feelings, I don’t need to worry about keeping it long anymore.”

“ _Hm_ , I don’t know if I’ll feel the same way about you with short hair…”

Arthur smacks Merlin’s arm, then yanks him into a searing kiss.


End file.
